


rāra avis

by nicky69



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicky69/pseuds/nicky69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the most precious things in life are right in front of us, if only we allow ourselves to see them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rāra avis

 

“So man, what you doing on your days off? You’re off tomorrow and Thursday, right?”

Before, Nick had a chance to answer, Warrick spoke again.

 “Who’d you have to blackmail to land that, man? Two days off in a row and not even on call. Come on, what’s your secret? Tina’s been dropping hints.  It's been so long since we had any time off together, she says she’s beginning to forget what I look like.”

 They were in the locker room after another grueling shift, changing out of their work clothes and into something a little more casual and a whole lot sweeter smelling. Eau de la dumpster was _so_ not attractive.

 “You got anything planned, like meeting up with a fine lady or two? Or you just gonna lay at home watching football on that big ass TV of yours, drinking beer and eating those nasty In and Out burgers  you like so much?”

“Hey!” Nick’s tone was indignant, his petulant pout a perfect counterpoint to the humor dancing in his eyes as he turned to face his friend’s teasing.  “I’ll have you now that I have plans for my free time, thank you very much. As a matter of fact I have a date on Thursday with a very lovely young lady who just came into town this past weekend.” OK, so ‘into town’ was a bit of a stretch, but who would ever know?

“You looking to get lucky, Nick? Hoping to put an end to that long dry spell you’ve been going through? You dog.”

Warrick’s megawatt grin brightened considerably as he watched a tidal wave of red threaten to overwhelm his friend’s face and he decided to go for broke.

“Oh yes,” he crowed, “Nicky’s finally gonna get some action. Well my friend, good luck. And remember, buddy, I want details and if possible?  Pictures.”

Stooped over as he was, in the act of retrieving his bag from the floor, Warrick missed Nick’s horrified expression, but as he straightened and shrugged into his jacket he caught sight of Nick’s stunned appearance. “What,” he chuckled, “us old married folks have to get our kicks where we can.  I’m not averse to a little voyeurism.”

He exited the locker room to Nick’s strident exclamation, “Pervert!”

“Who’s a pervert?”

Gil Grissom’s curious voice preceded its owner into the room, so he missed the nervous flutter of Nick’s hands as he ran restless fingers through his already brushed hair. The blush that had just started to subside returned with a vengeance to Nick’s blazing face.

“Hey Griss, man, where did you come from? You do know it’s rude to eavesdrop, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Gil wore what Nick liked to think of as his ‘well, duh’ look. His expression was one of childlike innocence, yet at the same time his eyes sparkled with good humor and barely concealed mischief. It was an incongruous combination on Grissom’s normally grim and serious countenance, and one that Nick felt he would never tire of seeing.

“You didn’t answer my question, Nick.” Blue eyes locked with Nick’s mellow brown and held him captive. “Who’s a pervert?”

“Um, Warrick…he said…he asked for pictures…you know, never mind, it’s not important.”

Nick cast around desperately, looking for something to divert Grissom’s attention, all the while fighting the almost irresistible urge to flee from under his gimlet gaze. Grissom’s unflinching regard was almost overpowering in its intensity and Nick’s body was responding in an entirely inappropriate manner considering their present surroundings; he was getting hard.

“So, Gris, you got the next two nights off too? You got anything special planned, or is it just you and your roaches?”

Nick knew it was a feeble attempt at diversion, but he was beginning to feel increasingly flustered under Grissom’s scrutiny and he really needed to get the other man’s attention off of him before he noticed Nick’s embarrassing condition.

Grissom failed to discern the most immediate cause of Nick’s embarrassment, hidden as it was by Nick’s jacket. However, recognizing the light in Nick’s eyes that heralded more blushing in his future, Gil stepped closer to Nick, crowding him in the limited space between the lockers and benches. He knew that he really should leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t help himself. Nick was just so damn cute when he was flushed and excited. Gil would have liked to see that blush come about under different, more intimate circumstances.

“You know, Nick. I do have a life outside of the lab and interests other than insects. In fact I think that you’d be surprised by the variety of my field of expertise and the scope of my leisure activities.”

A silence hung between them as Gil allowed Nick to assimilate the tone of his voice and the unspoken meaning inherent in his words. Then he headed into the showers, deliberately choosing to squeeze by Nick, allowing their bodies to come into contact in a seemingly casual manner. When he was gone, Nick stood immobile, frozen in place by the memory of Grissom’s words and actions; all he could think to say was, “What the hell!”

 

“What are the odds?” Nick allowed a despairing groan to slip from his lips, even as he pasted a welcoming smile on said lips at the same time.

“Griss, man, what are you doing out here? I didn’t think this was your deal.”

As he watched his boss’s rapid and unexpected approach over the rough terrain, Nick sighed again and wondered, ‘Seriously, what are the odds of meeting someone that he knew way out here? And what are the odds on it being Grissom?’ Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge was a good 90 miles Northwest of Las Vegas; he should have been well out of the reach of prying eyes and teasing co-workers. Yet here came one of those impossible co-workers, large as life. Damn, he just couldn’t catch a break. He only hoped that he could still keep Warrick in the dark about the purpose of his visit.

“I could say the same for you, Nick. According to the rumor mill at the lab, you are supposed to have a hot date today, if I’m not mistaken.”

Nick didn’t know how to answer that. First, he was too stunned by the implication that Grissom actually paid attention to lab gossip, and second, he was amazed that Griss would be interested in his love life at all.

“I expected you to be snuggled up somewhere with a beautiful redhead, not traipsing around out here in the wilderness.”

As he felt a blush begin to creep across his features, Nick had known that he’d have to come clean with Grissom. He never could lie worth a damn.

“Well, I am hoping to get lucky today with a very beautiful redhead, just not the kind of bird that Warrick has in mind.”

It had taken Grissom only a moment to put the pieces together. Nick…wilderness…not the kind of bird that Warrick had been expecting. Nick had been bird watching.  Quietly then, Grissom observed  a flush of self consciousness blaze over Nick’s mortified features. Yep, he’d definitely looked a little sheepish at being caught in a white lie, but also hopeful that Grissom would go easy on him.

“Have no fear, Nick. Your secret’s safe. If Warrick finds out about your little misdirection it won’t be from me.”

The relief that swept Nick’s face was almost comical in its intensity. In its wake it left an unaccountably bashful Texan.

After removing his ball cap, Nick raised his left hand to run his long fingers through soft dark locks before rubbing absently at the back of his head. He gazed up at Grissom from beneath thick lashes, like a repentant sinner or a naughty child seeking absolution.

“Thanks man. I really don’t want to have to deal with any more of Warrick’s teasing when I get back to the lab. Man, he'd have a field day with this. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Nick smiled then. It was a warm lazy grin; part chagrin and part delight at having found a co-conspirator. Suddenly Grissom knew exactly how Nick felt in the locker room, because he unexpectedly felt a little flustered himself and to top things off he felt himself getting hard. Damn it, he could have used a nice roomy lab coat right about then, to hide his ‘indiscretion,’ but unfortunately for him there seemed to be a distinct lack of them in the vicinity.

Luckily for Grissom, Nick did not seem to notice his untimely excitement. Now that he was assured immunity from future teasing his interest turned to Grissom’s unexpected presence.

“I gotta say, Griss, you’re the last person I expected to meet out here. I never figured you as a nature lover. So what brings you way out here?”

“Bugs, Nick. Ash Meadows is well known for its abundant plant and animal life and where you find animals, you find bugs. In fact I managed to collect a particularly impressive specimen of…. .”

Nick never did find out the name of the impressive specimen Grissom had captured, as his own laughter cut the man off in mid lecture. He couldn’t help himself; it was just too comical an image in his mind; bird watcher Nick and bugman Grissom, secretly setting out to investigate the world.  Between huffing gales of laughter and frequent swipes at joyful tearful eyes, Nick managed to say, “We are such a pair of science geeks, man. Even on our day off we just can’t help ourselves.”

“Once a geek, always a geek? One for all and all for one? Two of a kind, Nicky?” Grissom’s eyes twinkled then with unabashed humor and his answering laugh was no less exuberant for all its delayed instigation. In its aftermath there was no awkwardness, only a comfortable camaraderie and the mellow contentment that was found in only the deepest of friendships.

Their day together had been drawing to a close when Nick suddenly grabbed Grissom’s arm to stop his forward motion. While one finger was pressed firmly to his lips to indicate the need for silence, he’d used his free hand to direct Grissom’s gaze to a tree some twenty yards away and just off to their right. Sitting regally on one of the higher branches of the scrubby tree was the subject of Nick’s quest.

Grissom had to squint a little in the nebulous tarnished light of dusk before he’d found his quarry. To his eyes the medium sized bird with its reddish breast, long tail and pale belly with reddish bars seemed nothing outstanding; pretty in its own way, but nothing special. However, when he turned to tell Nick his observation, he was evocatively reminded of the fact that we each see the beauty that surrounds us from our own unique perspective.

Nick had been spellbound; his attention riveted on the tiny bundle of feathers that perched with such insouciance on the branches before them. His expression in that unguarded moment of discovery was one of awe and heartbreaking poignancy. It was a moment of sweet stillness in a frantic world, and the forest itself seemed to hold its breath lest it shatter the beauty and the purity of the scene 

Of course it didn't last.

A shrill cry of unknown origin startled the hawk and in one graceful move she was airborne. The last rays of the fading light that captured her movements burnished her feathers to an other- worldly luster. She seemed almost the embodiment of the wilderness, more spirit incarnate than flesh and bone.  She was glorious.

“God, Gil, do you know how long I’ve been searching, how long I’ve waited to see for one of these? My whole life. Look at her; the lines of her body, her strength, her grace. She’s beautiful.”

Nick’s voice petered out then as his emotions took a hold and his sense of awe and wonder overwhelmed him. His eyes however, continued to telegraph his obvious excitement and delight as he followed the bird’s easy flight. He watched as she spiraled upwards into the ether, riding the invisible thermals that were the last gift of the departing sun, a final boon at the dying of the day.

Grissom’s own eyes, however, had been firmly focused not on the endangered avian but on the man by his side. Aglow with happiness, Nick seemed almost radiant. From the deep laughter lines that framed his seductive mouth to the soulful eyes that could spark passion in Gil’s mind and body he was beauty itself.

Bathed as he’d been in the same ethereal light that had transformed one hawk into an archetype of nature, there was something elemental, something almost raw about Nick. Untamed. Unlike the shallow, manufactured prettiness so commonly found  in a city like Vegas, where life was cheap and beauty an illusion, Nick seemed…more vital, more real. Some things ran deeper than just a pretty face; integrity, character, fortitude--Nick possessed all those traits... And underpinning those admirable qualities were a gentle soul, a generous heart and a sometimes bewildering pureness of spirit. How Nick retained his unfailing sense of hope and decency in the face of so much hardship was a mystery to Gil, but one he was grateful for.

It gave him hope for his own weary soul.

Of course, he hadn’t told Nick any of that. He’d never known the joy of holding Nick in the aftermath of passion, never experienced the rapture of sharing moments of sweet intimacy. He’d never called him beloved or heard those same words returned from precious lips. He never would.

Nick was straight and that was the end of that.

Nick was a lady’s man and Gil too old and too bruised by past encounters to risk his heart again. Still he knew a treasure when he saw it, and could appreciate its singular perfection.

Nick turned to him then, all but bouncing in his excitement. Like the cat that got the cream, or more appropriately the ‘twitcher’ that got the “ _Bute_ _lineatus”_. He was almost disgustingly happy and he wanted to spread that happiness around.

“Did you see it, Gil? Did you? That’s a very rare bird,” he said, eyes turning once more to seek out a last glimpse of the rapidly receding form.

Unmindful of the departing hawk, Gil’s cobalt gaze remained fixed on Nick’s face. His lips curved upwards in a small smile, but in his eyes was an echo of loss, a poignant regret for what might have been, if only...

“I’m looking at it right now, Nicky.”

 “A rare bird indeed.”

  _“rāra avis” – a ‘rare bird’ on earth, an exceptional person, a paragon_.

  _“Buteo lineatus”,_ The **Red-shouldered Hawk**. If you want to see what Nick was  so excited you can find some relevant information here:

**Author's Note:**

> Written way back in 2007.


End file.
